Choosing Destiny
by LadyDivine91
Summary: At 18, teenagers get to choose their future. Literally their life's work, since they'll pass on when it's done. Leonard Snart has the potential to be great, but his choice has already been made for him. But if he could choose for himself, he'd pick Barry and happiness. The choice he makes, Barry has to live with. What will Barry choose? Coldflash. Barry A. Leonard S.


_**Notes: ****Written for the Coldflash Bingo 2019 prompt 'free' since it incorporated high school au and hurt comfort and magical, but it was more dystopia than all these combined.**_

"Come on, Lenny. Hurry it up. I haven't got all day."

Len peers up with seething slowness at the counselor sitting across from him, reclining in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk, the heels of his loafers denting the edge of Len's paper.

"You act like I'm choosing my favorite ice cream flavor, Mr. Cummings," Len growls, returning to the packet on the table in front of him – a comprehensive list of the future careers the world has to offer. It's a sick joke to him, really, since he knows there's only one choice for him. As much as he loathes it, he's going to have to choose it.

There's too much riding on it.

"You've literally had your whole life to make this decision," Mr. Cummings counters with a cruel grin. "So make your choice and be on your way."

Mr. Cummings knows Len's current predicament. Everyone knows. And even though it's widely acknowledged that it sucks, very few people have any sympathy for him.

For Lewis Snart's son.

Len hasn't made any decisions yet, good or bad, and he's already suffering for the sins of his father.

"Eighteen years isn't life enough to choose what I'm supposed to do with the next eighty. And what if I don't wanna live that long?"

"Then choose something dangerous, and you could be gone tomorrow."

"Lucas Alexander Cummings!" a stern voice scolds from the doorway. "What do you think you're doing?"

Mr. Cummings pops up in his chair, toppling it to the side in his haste to stand up. "Uh … Mrs. Danvers!" He scrambles to his feet. "I didn't see you. I didn't know you were … what can I do for you?"

"Mr. Cummings, as an occupational counselor, you're not here to insult our students. You're here to help guide them in their choices."

"That's … that's what I was doing, Mrs. Danvers. Wasn't I, Mr. Snart?" He turns nervously to Len, begging with his eyes for help. But Len rolls his eyes and goes back to his paperwork.

"You're on your own with this one, Luke-y. I've taken up too much of your time already, remember?"

"Go see h.r., Mr. Cummings," Mrs. Danvers says. "You're dismissed."

"But … but I can't be dismissed! Counselor is my designation! I chose it at age 18!"

"You're right. And you'll still be a counselor. No one can take that away from you. Just not here. And if I have anything to say about it, not around children. Now go."

"No, I … but, I …" the man pleads, but one look at the principal's face makes her position on the subject clear. He drops his shoulders and accepts defeat. "Yes, Mrs. Danvers. Right away."

Len keeps his eyes glued to the pages in front of him while Mr. Cummings gathers his things and heads out the door. Normally, he'd gloat, but he doesn't have it in him.

He's running out of time.

"Now then, Mr. Snart." Mrs. Danvers takes a seat in the former counselor's chair. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"I'm not having any trouble, Mrs. Danvers. That's the problem. I know what I'm supposed to pick …"

"And what are you supposed to pick?"

"Criminal. Like my father."

"Is that what you want to pick?"

"Do I really have a choice?"

"Of course you have a choice. Everyone has a choice."

"But do I really though?"

Mrs. Danvers sighs. She folds her hands on the desk, running one thumb over the other. She understands where Len's coming from. Choice is one thing. Destiny is another. She's been in a similar position before, with a road she wanted to take … and a road she had to. "Look, Leonard, you're a smart boy. You have talents that go far beyond what your father chose to do with his life. Don't throw that all away because it's what he wants."

"If being a criminal means 'throwing it all away' then why is that option even in this book?"

"The book isn't perfect. Believe me. If I and every other superhero on this planet had our way, we'd definitely take that out. But the system that governs this process is beyond our control. It comes from an ancient brain that considers things logically and without emotion. It seeks balance. Without bad, there can be no good, no ambition to overcome, no strive to do better, no want to make the world a better place. This world will always have criminals, just like it will always have heroes. But that doesn't mean _you_ need to be one."

Len's eyes dart subconsciously to the side, out the closest window. Down at the curb, a dark blue Buick sedan sits, windows tinted, idling in park. Even from a distance, Len shrinks away from it, his shoulders hunching until they reach his ears, his head bowing low to the desk. "But if I don't … if I don't do what he wants … he's going to hurt her, Mrs. Danvers."

"Who?" Mrs. Danvers asks, lowering her head to match his. "_Who_ is he going to hurt?"

"My sister. He said so. He's going to kill her. I can't choose my life over hers. I just … I can't. And no one seems to be able to help me."

"I'm sorry, Len," Mrs. Danvers says quietly. "Unfortunately, where it pertains to Lewis Snart, there are things I can't ..."

Len's hands curl into fists, his insides freezing over with fury as he listens to the principal spin the same spiel Len's heard a thousand times before. Len knew his dad was crooked from day one – a corrupt ex-cop, an abusive husband, and a general scum of the earth. But he had his old man pegged as a petty thief. Little did he know that his douchebag father was some huge criminal mastermind, linked to other bigger criminals across the country. The CCPD apparently has every intention of putting his dad behind bars for life … _eventually_. But they need to drain the swamp first.

And Lewis Snart is the plug.

In the meantime, Lewis has the freedom to torture his kids however he sees fit because what are the lives of two stupid kids worth compared to all those bad guys whose apprehensions will surely put medals on countless chests and plaques on the walls at City Hall? Especially when those kids are the spawn of the lowest of the low to begin with? They probably see Len and Lisa as part of that swamp they're emptying, and if not, collateral damage.

A sacrifice they're willing to make.

With Len turning 18, and developing physically into a virtual wall of muscle, that makes Lisa Lewis's preferred punching bag.

If Len chooses a different future, if he leaves his home and never looks back, he'll be sentencing his sister to death.

A long and painful one.

"I don't care about your plans for my dad! I only care about Lisa! What's the point of having superheroes in this stupid town if they can't save my sister!?"

He waits only a second for Mrs. Danvers to contradict, to ask him to reconsider and help him come up with a solution. But she doesn't. Because there's isn't one.

Not one she's willing to sign her name to.

Len grabs the book, turns to the page he has rabbit-eared, and makes his mark. Then he slides the book across the desk.

"Mr. Cummings was right," he says, pushing back in his chair and standing up. "I had my whole life to come to this decision, and I have. I always knew what it was going to be."

* * *

"Len! Len! Wait up!"

Len doesn't stop walking, putting on a hint of speed as he heads down the hallway towards the school's double doors, praying that he didn't take too long, that his father's sedan is still there.

And that Lisa's nose isn't broken.

"I can't, Barry," Len says when he hears running footsteps in pursuit. "I have to go. I just chose what I'm going to be doing for the rest of my life, and that life starts today."

"I haven't done mine yet. What did you check?" Barry asks, reaching Len before he can make it out the door. "Construction worker? Author? Doctor? Chef?"

Barry's question cuts Len to the quick with every career he mentions since those were options they'd talked about, pipe dreams they'd discussed. Lying naked on Barry's bed, covered in nothing but sweat and staring at the ceiling as if it were a sky full of stars, Len had given himself the freedom to dream of a life he knew he couldn't have, one where he's a regular joe, carving his own path in the world doing something he loves …

… and making love on the daily to the boy of his dreams.

But with the flick of a pen, he had to leave those dreams behind.

If he had a knife on him, he would have driven it into his own heart, ended this nightmare life before it begins.

"You kn0w what I picked, Barry," Len says tightly. "You knew how this would end up. I told you …"

Barry's sneakers squeak to a halt. "No!" he gasps, grabbing Len's shoulder and yanking him around. "You didn't! Say that you didn't!"

"I didn't have a choice."

"Yes, you did! You _do_! Len! This isn't what you want!"

"Yeah, well, we can't all be like you, Barry!" Len says, stopping to confront his boyfriend. "We don't all get to choose what we want to do with our lives. Some of us have responsibilities to something other than ourselves! Something more important!"

"We can fix this, Len!" Barry sniffs, pulling Len close, balling his hands in the shoulders of his shirt and pressing their foreheads together, locking the world around them away. "It's not too late. Mrs. Danvers can fix this. I can help you. _Joe_ can help you."

"Joe is a cop," Len reminds him. "Cops had their chance to help me. For years. And they chose no." He shakes his head sadly, coming to terms with the fact that this is goodbye. No one's going to rescue him at the final buzzer. He hates himself for believing there was even a chance. "I have to do this."

"No, Len …"

"And you, you're going to go off and be a great forensic scientist. You're going to join the force, and you're going to be a cop … the _right_ way. You're going to fight for the good, and you're not going to take no for an answer."

"No, Len," Barry whimpers, his body becoming limp the more hopeless he feels. "Let me … let me help you."

Len puts gentle hands to the sides of Barry's head and pulls his forehead down to his lips. He kisses Barry, feeling the moment when Barry breaks, his body shaking with sobs he tries desperately to keep locked inside his chest. Len feels Barry's heartache, feels it like it's his own. Because it is. His chest burns with it, the unfairness of losing a life that should have been his to begin with, not consigned by blood to a murderer. "No one can help me, Barry. From now on … I'm on my own."

Barry holds tight to Len's shirt when he tries to step away. Len doesn't wrench himself free, but Barry knows he has to let him go. Willingly. This boy who spent the first seven years they knew one another tormenting him to tears, then becoming his best friend, then his boyfriend. This man who Barry wrapped a handful of his hopes and dreams around … he had to give him up. And he does. Not because he wants to. Not because he doesn't love him. But because he loves him enough to know that without Lisa, there is no Len, and if Len doesn't go now, Barry will be putting Lisa's life at risk. So Barry does the hardest thing he's done in a while.

He opens his hands, and sets Len free.

Len's breath hitches. He steps to the side. He puts a hand on Barry's shoulder and gives it a squeeze. Slowly that hand drops away by inches, sliding down Barry's arm, lingering at Barry's wrist, finishing the trip from knuckles to fingertips until finally they're no longer connected.

"I'm sorry, Barry," Len whispers, and he walks away.

Barry doesn't turn to watch his boyfriend leave. He doesn't want his last image of Len to be of him walking out of his life.

Because if Barry plays his cards right, if he becomes the master of his own fate, then maybe this moment doesn't have to be goodbye.

* * *

"Well, well. Barry Allen," Mrs. Danvers says, trying to stay upbeat while watching with concerned eyes as the sullen young man enters her office. He doesn't engage in the small talk Barry is so famous for, and he doesn't sit down. He drops his career packet on her desk with a finality that steals every inch of air from the room. "Have you chosen your …?

"I pick superhero," he announces, his voice conspicuously rough. Her smile falls, and she sighs. She didn't need super hearing to know what was going on down the hall outside her office. She's been watching Barry and Len for the past four years. She thought for sure if anyone could help Len change his mind about today's decision, it would be him.

And now, she's in danger of losing them both.

"Well, that is your choice," she says, her brightness fading. "You were tested, and given the option for that special designation. But do you really want it? Superhero life isn't all it's cracked up to be. That's why we don't have too many. And the ones we do have … they tend to go into exile after a decade or two."

"My best friend just threw his life away doing what he thought was right. Because the system couldn't help him."

"But if you go into forensic science …"

"Then I become a part of the system. And if I become a part of that system, I'm afraid I won't be able to help him, either. Not the way he needs. But as a superhero, I can. I can keep an eye on him. I can keep him alive. And that's what I'm going to do."

_I will be above the law_, Mrs. Danvers hears him think, and deep inside her chest, her heart shatters.

"Barry, don't become a superhero for the wrong reasons," she warns him. "Mind your motivations."

"I didn't realize that fighting for what's right is the wrong reason, no matter what the motivation."

"Becoming a superhero means throwing your life away just as much as becoming a criminal. You're a smart boy," she says, struck numb by the déjà vu. "You have a bright future. Are you willing to give that up, live a life of service and solitude, just to help your friend?"

"No," Barry says, backing away towards the door to end Mrs. Danvers's attempts at trying to change his mind. She wouldn't be able to. But considering the earful he's going to get from Joe and Iris when they find out, he doesn't want to hear it right now. "I'm taking responsibility for something bigger than me. I'm doing this for someone I love."


End file.
